Fan-fucking-tastic.
Here he was, bruised on multiple parts of his body, laying on the dirty floor, and having someone sit on his back. It could've been worse, really. At least the dude wasn't putting any nasty, mud caked boots on his back. Now then he would've been pissed because nobody fucks up his clothes, especially ones gifted to him from friends other people.
As the other man started monologing about how he should've been more aware, shouldn't have been worried, blah blah, Oliver tried to grasp for the staff. Luckily, it wasn't too far away and the man seemed a bit too occupied in lecturing him, and sitting on him, to notice that he could still very easily use his hands. "Thanks for noticing my ass, by the way." Maybe that'd keep the guy distracted. "You seem pretty curious yourself." And no, Oliver wasn't going to deny that he was immensely curious.
Oliver didn't really want to try doing a push up or trying to shove the guy off of his back. The guy seemed decently heavy, not that it was a problem, and he didn't exactly trust his own strength. The last thing he wanted to do was pull a muscle in his shoulders. So instead he focused on trying to grab the staff.
If he were able to grab it, and not be stopped by James, he'd proceed to try and wack the other man with it. However, the motion of his arms were slightly limited and slow.